The Boy-Who-Vanished
by missmizzie
Summary: Lily and Harry were killed the night Sirius betrayed the Potters to Voldemort. James and Harry's twin, Leanne (the girl-who-lived) were the only survivors. At least, that is what James was told. AU, wrong twin-who-lived story. Slightly manipulative Dumbledore. Background Wolfstar.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Okay, I have so many other half written stories posted it is not even funny. I sure as hell should not be posting another story, especially one that has been done so many times. But screw it. This is a wrong twin-who-lived story. Harry's twin sister is the girl who lived. Dumbledore is manipulative, but in a well-meaning way. That is all I can really say right now without giving anything away. You just have to read and find out.**

Prologue:

It was October 31, 1981 and the Potter family of 24 Godric Hollow were preparing for another quite night. As there was a Fidelius Charm on their house, James and Lily saw no reason to by candy for children who would never see the house. Lily had gone to the bathroom leaving her husband to prepare the twins, Leanne and Harry, for bed. Being the ever obedient husband, James simply transfigured their clothes into pajamas and entertained the children with colored smoke from his wand.

Lily scowled upon returning to see her children squealing loudly, sleep the furthest thing from their minds. Her anger didn't last long, however, as she did live with a Marauder and two toddlers. Besides, in her pocket were the results of the potion she had just taken, telling her that she was pregnant.

Since hearing the prophecy, she and James debated whether it was safe to bring yet another child into this world with the war and all. Ultimately, the young couple decided that they were as safe as they could get with Peter Pettigrew as secret keeper. Therefore, the Potters decided to let nature take its course. Lily felt a smile grow on her face just as James gasped in alarm.

Jumping to his feet, the dark haired man raced to the window and paled. "Lily!" He hollered in horror. "Lily, it's him! It-it's Voldemort! Grab the kids and run! I'll try and hold him off!"

Terrified, Lily grabbed the children and ran upstairs; taking them three at a time, one for every child she had to protect. Placing the twins in Leanne's crib, she rummaged through the closet for the bag they had packed the day they heard that damned prophecy. Throwing it over her shoulder, she grabbed the Muggle battery that two tell-all words (Wormtail traitor) would convert it into an emergency portkey that would take them to Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts. She had just lifted Leanne when she heard the door downstairs break opened.

Lord Voldemort quickened his pace as he saw Potter yell something to his Mudblood wife, who grabbed two children and bolted. He could not let the Potter twins get away, not when he was in their front yard. _It ends tonight_, the … man thought. Pausing only to check the shields on his mind, Voldemort aimed his wand at the door, blasting it opened.

Blocking the stairs was Potter himself who, despite looking furious, was clearly terrified. The fear in the man's eyes became more prominent when he reached into his pocket only to realize he had left his wand in the other room. Knowing that Voldemort was unlikely to wait patiently while he grabbed it, James did the only thing he could do to protect his family. Firmly planting a hand on each wall, he stood his ground and glared at Voldemort, waiting for death.

The red eyed man couldn't help but laugh. This pathetic excuse of a wizard too dumb to hold onto his wand? How this man bested him thrice was beyond even the Dark Lord, though he would rather destroy his own horcruxes than admit it. Still, however dumb, James Potter was a pureblood and a member of the Order of the Phoenix as well. With a flick of his wand, Voldemort Stunned Potter and stepped over him to reach the twins. He could take Potter Sr. with him upon his departure.

At the top of the stairs, Voldemort found the door to the nursery opened. Lily Potter turned to look at him in horror. In her arms was a red-haired baby girl with hazel eyes, while her black-haired, green eyed brother stood in the crib, watching.

Panicking, Lily stepped in front of her son and turned her daughter's petrified face away from the Dark Lord. Inching closer to the Portkey, Lily began begging with Voldemort in an attempt to distract him, even for a few seconds. "Please, not my children, not my babies! Have mercy!"

Voldemort only sneered at her, "Mercy? For a Mudblood and her filthy children? I don't think so. Stand aside, you silly girl. Stand aside now!"

At that moment, Leanne flinched at the high, cool voice of the scary stranger and kicked her feet. Lily watched in horror as the baby's foot connected with the battery, their lifeline, and sent it rolling off the dresser and under the crib. Tears streamed down the woman's face. "Please!" She cried, unsure if she were pleading with Voldemort, or God himself. "Have mercy!"

Voldemort continued to sneer. While her husband may be useful to him, Lily Potter will never be more than a Mudblood in his eyes. There was no point in sparing her life. With both children watching, Voldemort aimed his wand at the sobbing woman and bellowed "Avada Kedavra!"

The killing curse hit Lily square in the face, killing her instantly. The heat of the curse passing so close to the little girl's face burned her severely, causing her to shriek loudly in pain as her mother's body collapsed.

Harry watched the scene play out with wide eyes, before turning to glare at the red-eyed stranger, who laughed cruelly. Ignoring the corpse and screaming child, Voldemort looked down at Harry. "You are clearly the prophesized child. I'm afraid that I have very little time to enjoy your death. Dumbledore is many things, but he is no fool; by now he surely knows I am here. You first, then that brat sister of yours."

The child continued to glare at Voldemort as the later pointed his wand at Harry's forehead. As the Dark Lord casted the spell, he felt an odd, pulling feeling begin in his chest, then spread throughout his body. For the first time that night, Harry cried out as a blinding pain ran across his forehead. Voldemort had just enough time to note the cut on the child's head before his body crumbled. Silently summoning Nagini, he used his remaining strength to Disapparate. At the same time, the roof caved in, covering both children in the splintered rubble.

Albus Dumbledore Apparated into the Potter's living room. Glancing around, he saw James sprawled on the stairs. Without stopping to examine him, the elderly man raced to the nursery.

Mortified, he shifted through what was once the roof, finding Harry glancing at him with a cut on his head and a shocked expression. Dumbledore lifted him with a sigh; the boy had always made him uneasy, with his long stares and near-emotionless responses to situations. Looking around some more (and ignoring Harry who seemed to be pointing at something), Dumbledore eventually found Lily and Leanne. While Lily was clearly dead, Leanne was covered in scratches and a large burn on her face. The burn stretched from ear to ear and was shaped like the letter V.

Despite the situation, Dumbledore smiled. Leanne Rachel Potter was the Girl-Who-Lived. He scanned the children again; while he could heal the injuries, the twins would remain scarred for life. Now, Dumbledore had to decide what to do with them.

Going downstairs, Dumbledore nearly tripped over James. Shaking his head, the old man placed the children in a play pen and went to examine the man he had forgotten. To his shock, James was only Stunned, but otherwise unharmed. Dumbledore raised his wand to revive him, but paused.

_If James were to wake up and see the children, he would never see reason._ Dumbledore thought, putting his wand away. _Leanne will need more attention, more training. Harry will feel abandoned, or worse, Leanne would never reach her full potential._

Waving his wand around, Dumbledore put charms on the building to keep others out and the inhabitant's safe while he left. With a shake of his head, the old man lifted the baby boy and Disapparated. James would never be able to choose between his children, so Dumbledore had to do it for him.

For his part, Harry was silent as the two appeared on Privet Drive. He glanced at the hairy old man who had a quill writing a letter next to him. As they approached the driveway of number 4, Dumbledore summoned a carrier and blankets. On the door steps, he swaddled Harry and placed him in the carrier along with the letter. Pointing his wand at the house, he murmured something under his breath. After a moment, Dumbledore turned and left Harry on the doorstep. Inside, Petunia and Vernon Dursley's few memories of the Potters were being modified. In the morning, Petunia would open the door to find her nephew, Harry Jameson.

Dumbledore had just taken down the last of the charms on the Potter house when Sirius Black came racing up the walk-way. Hitting James (who was still unconscious) with a silent disillusion charm, the old man greeted the younger man. "Dumbledore!" He cried, " Was it … the twins … James, Lily?"

Dumbledore took Sirius by the arm and led him to the couch. "It was Peter, Sirius. It was Peter the whole time. James and Leanne survived; she is the girl-who-lived. But …but Lily and Harry didn't make it. I'm sorry."

Sirius began shaking his head violently. Not Lily. Not Harry, his own Godson. And Peter, all Wormtail's fault. With a howl of anguish and fury, the Grim Animagus disapparated before the old man could stop him.

Needless to say, Dumbledore was unhappy. He knew that Sirius could and would kill Pettigrew, that he had no plans to stop. But he had the closest relationship to his Godson that Dumbledore had ever seen. If Harry were placed in a room full of Polyjuiced babies, Sirius would find the real Harry in minutes. The elderly wizard was positive that if he ever saw Harry in the future, he would recognize him in a heartbeat.

Dumbledore's originally planned to modify Sirius's memories of Harry so he would never look twice at him if there was ever a chance meeting. However, with everything going on, the old man was distracted and missed his chance. Therefore, he had to resort to plan B.

With a flick of his wand, James reappeared. Finally, after nearly half an hour, Dumbledore revived the younger man and had him Obliviated before he could sit up properly. "James," Dumbledore stated in a clear voice with a hint of pain. "Sirius was your secret keeper. He betrayed you and Lily. Voldemort found you. He has killed Lily and Harry. Leanne is the girl-who-lived. My sources indicate that Sirius has killed Peter."

James blinked, letting this information sink in. After a moment, the young man buried his face in his hands and sobbed. Dumbledore put a hand on his shoulder as Leanne sat in the play pen watching them. "I am so sorry."

**A/N: Okay, prologue is done. Next chapter is in progress. Please feel free to review or PM me with questions or comments. Thank you for reading.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I only own Leanne Potter, everyone else belongs to JKR**

Chapter 1:

Potter Estate:

"Daddy!" the obese red headed girl shrieked, causing the house elves to scatter throughout the manor. "Let's go!"

James Potter raced down the three flights of stairs separating his study from the main foyer. "Sorry Leanne. Just finishing some paper work." He explained to his impatient daughter. Looking out the window, he sighed. "Are you sure you want to go to Diagon Alley today? We'll have to go again next week to get your school supplies."

The young girl's glare was one that could have rivaled her mothers, though Lily would have never made such a face over not being permitted to by a broomstick; maybe if she were forced to get one, but never over something so silly. Not that James really cared; every expression on his little angel's chubby face reminded him of his late wife, who gave her life the night Leanne saved the wizarding world. Again, James found himself wondering if his son, Leanne's dead twin Harry, would have looked like him as Leanne looks like Lily.

"Daddy!" Leanne snapped. "You are not listening! This is important!"

The man shook his head before beaming down at his little princess. "Sorry love. What were you saying?"

The red head rolled her hazel eyes, the only feature she inherited from her father. "I said that the owner of the Quidditch shop himself sent an owl last night saying that the Nimbus 2000 I _special ordered_ was in."

"Yes," James agreed, "but it is _reserved_, meaning it will still be there next week when we get your things for Hogwarts."

"But Daddy!" the girl whinned, tears welling in her eyes. "The broom comes out in two days for express orders, then next week for the '_general public'_. Meaning if we pick it up next week I won't be the first to have it!"

James looked at his daughter sadly. There are days where he knows Lily would hate the way Leanne turned out. And though he agrees with Dumbledore that she deserves the best, there are times where James loathes the spoiled brat he had raised. Which then causes him to hate himself and to spoil Leanne even more, if only to delay his own guilt. The single father is positive that his 10 year old is at least unconsciously aware of this. James would rather think Leanne wants to feel loved by her father as opposed to being this upset about a broom that she technically owns but isn't holding at the moment.

Pushing his thoughts aside, James grinned at his daughter. "Alright, how about this. When we go to Diagon Alley to get your broom, we also get your robes, that we don't need the letter for."

Leanne beamed. It would be easy to convince her father to buy more than just those dumb robes. All she has to do is cry.

Number Four Privet Drive:

Harry had just finished mowing the lawn when his stomach growled loudly. Panicked, he looked around to be sure none of the Dursley's were around. It has been over a day since he last ate and Uncle Vernon's favorite form of torture was kicking the young boy in the stomach whenever he heard it growl, followed by telling the boy he had lost another meal.

The record for his little game has been one week, which occurred two months ago. Harry had been playing dodge ball in gym when he suddenly passed out. Thankfully, Dudley had hit him with a ball so the teacher simply assumed that Harry had been knocked unconscious. Dudley received a detention at school and Harry received a beating at home.

At least he got to eat.

Since then, the Dursley's have been careful to feed Harry every three or four days. Breakfast and dinner on the weekends and during the summer; lunch and dinner on school days. As there was only a small window of time where Harry was allowed to eat the scrapes he received for breakfast and Dudley usually took his lunch at school, Harry knew he could at least rely on some form of food a few nights every week. That, along with whatever Mrs. Figg gave him.

The first four or five years Mrs. Figg babysat Harry, she made his time extremely dull. Sitting on her scratchy couch, Harry was forced to look at pictures of all her dead cats and listen to fun little stories about each cat, while the three living cats watched him. However, when he was 6 years old and the Dursley's had used on of their bi-weekly excuses to dump Harry with the old woman, the child was introduced to Mrs. Figg's new kitten, Holly. As Mrs. Figg when on about how this was her first kitten on over 20 years and her first ever Siamese, Harry reached out to pet the kitten.

For some reason, Holly freaked out and clawed her way up the boy's arm. Now, unfortunately, Harry was used to pain at this point and did little more than wince. Despite this, Harry was furious. No matter how hard he tried, it seemed that everyone just hated him. _I can't get back at the Dursley's,_ the little boy thought, _but maybe I can get back at Holly._

To his horror, the second those thoughts crossed his mind, Holly suddenly turned bright green. Mrs. Figg gawked between the solid green kitten and the petrified child. Instead of shouting at Harry or hitting him, she burst out laughing. After giving the shell-shocked boy a thick slice of cake, she managed to get Harry's side of the story.

Beaming despite herself, Mrs. Figg explained that what had occurred was perfectly normal, for some people. After promising not to tell the Dursleys, Harry was told the most remarkable thing; that magic was real and that he was a wizard. Mrs. Figg told him everything she knew about Hogwarts and that when he was 11, he would get to go.

Since that day, Mrs. Figg's house became a safe haven for Harry, though he continued to act as if he hated going there so the Dursley's would continue to "force" him to go. Over the years, Arabella managed to obtain several books detailing the world which shunned her when her Hogwarts letter never came. Every time Harry came over (which increased as Dudley got older and his parents wished to spend plenty of time with their little boy before it was too late) Harry would sit on the couch (now covered in a soft blanket) and read about the wizarding world with his only friends Mrs. Figg and Holly by his side.

**A/N: Just a heads up, all the Harry parts may be kind of dull until we get to Hogwarts. I'm just having so much fun with Leanne as I have so many ideas about her and James. **

**Also, I like to plan ahead. So I know it is only the first chapter and two of the main characters haven't even been accepted to Hogwarts yet, but I would like to talk about relationships. Should I go canon and do Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione? Should it be a Drarry? Dramonie? You, my readers, are encouraged to vote, I am willing to consider anything. However, I am not big on Harry/Hermione or that Snarry crap (no offense) so I will not be writing that. Anything else I will be happy to consider. Just remember, they are 10, no real relationship stuff until at least 4****th**** year.**


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: Oops, sorry it took so long. Finals are starting, I am starting to work extra hours, and I am preparing to go away to college next fall. Anyway, here is the next chapter. Just a heads up, there will be a little James bashing in this chapter, but James will share his side in the next one.**

Chapter 2

"Oi, get the mail!"

Harry bit the inside of his mouth in a desperate attempt to avoid making a snide comment to his Uncle. Vernon, on the other hand, didn't even bother to look up from his breakfast; everyone already knew who he was addressing. Harry silently made his way to the mail slot and shuffled through the letters, before beaming.

"Harry Jameson," he read from the envelope in a whisper. "Cupboard under the stairs, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey."

Taking a deep breath, the boy somehow managed to keep his face blank as he walked into the kitchen and gave his uncle all but his own letter. As the other males were too engrossed in their food and Petunia was busy being the perfect housewife, none of them paid Harry any mind as he opened his letter under the table and read his Hogwarts acceptance letter in entirety several times. They never even noticed him leave the table to carefully hid his letter under his worn mattress.

"Boy! Get in here and clear the table!"

At his uncle's shout, Harry raced back into the kitchen to begin his chores. His plan was to finish the day's list by lunchtime and to bring up the letter when he managed to get his aunt alone, as she was most likely to let him go.

Weeks ago, he and Mrs. Figg agreed that she would take him to Diagon Alley herself. Money may be an issue, but the Goblins often can get funds for orphaned and Muggle-raised children. There was also a chance that Harry's parents were wizards and left him some money when they died.

In the other room, Petunia was setting the table for Dudley's midmorning snack. Harry hadn't noticed, but she had seen the tell-tale purple seal on the envelope the boy had opened and quickly re-wrote the list of chores he was to perform. Having grown up with a cousin who was also a freak, Vernon was aware that they had little choice in the matter.

Despite herself, the usually sour woman smiled fondly at the thought of her husband. Many months into their courtship, the two discovered their similar secrets. As Petunia grew up feeling isolated by her younger sister, Violets', skills; and Vernon had been bullied by a cousin who took advantage of the unexplained things that he could make happen; the two were drawn closer by their hatred of the other world. When Petunia's nephew was forced upon them after her sister and husband were killed in a drunk driving accident of all things, the couple unconsciously began to take their pent up anger out on Harry.

Both knew there was nothing they could do to stop his accidental magic from manifesting itself, but Vernon often muttered about beating the freak out of the boy. Petunia assumed that this was her husband's way of justifying the violence to himself. She was guilty of the behavior herself, verbally abusing her nephew the way she never could do to her sister. Very rarely did Petunia strike the boy, preferring to set him with multiple chores along with her husband.

This day, however, she fixed his list so he would be done by noon, leaving him time to follow Petunia's instructions to the Leaky Cauldron which would lead him to Diagon Alley. She had been there occasionally with Violet and their parents to get the freak school supplied and knew the freak bank had funds for poor freaks. She would instruct the boy to ask for one and to use it wisely.

As Petunia finished Dudley's hot chocolate and began toasting the muffins, the boy came in. She assumed that the boy had raced through his chores, clearly planning to plead his case. She rolled her eyes as he shyly mentioned the letter and begged to go. To Harry's shock, his aunt told him how to get to the Leaky Cauldron and ordered him to ask for a "orphan fund" at the bank.

Wide eyed, Harry grabbed the letter from his cupboard and, in a fit of kindness rarely seen in the Dursley household, asked his aunt if she needed anything while he was out.

Petunia was shaken, kindness in the face of hatred was pure Violet. Unsure whether she should cry or slap the boy, she settled for a glare. "If it is not on the list, don't do it. And don't ask questions!"

"I was just being nice," Harry muttered as he left the kitchen.

This time, Petunia didn't hesitate to smack the ungrateful brat upside the head. Vernon would hear about this.

Mrs. Figg beamed as Harry raced into the house brandishing his letter. "Congratulations!" She exclaimed, hugging the young boy, who froze briefly at the contact. No matter how often this happened, he always returned the hug.

"Let's go to Diagon Alley," she said, leading the child to the fireplace.

"Okay! Aunt Petunia actually told me how to get to the Leaky Cauldron."

The old woman's eyes widened. That suggested Harry's mother was at least a witch. "Well, that is unexpected. But we will be using the Floo."

Harry beamed with excitement. Mrs. Figg had told him all about it and shown him pictures of the powder and the green flames. After having him annunciate Diagon Alley clearly several times to avoid mishaps, she gave Harry a handful of powder and the beaming child hopped into the fireplace and threw down the powder while shouting "Diagon Alley!"

Heads turned as the child stumbled out of the fireplace, coughing and gasping for breath. Despite some sympathetic smiles and Tom racing forward to help the boy to his feet, few people reacted. After being cleaned off by the kind barman, Harry took a good look around the pub. About a minute later, Mrs. Figg came out of the fireplace and lead him to the entrance of Diagon Alley.

The alley was completely chaotic to say the least. Shocked, Harry backed into Mrs. Figg and gawked, unused to seeing so many people. Arabella gently lead the overwhelmed boy away from the crowded entrance, wondering why there would be so many people before catching sight of several cameras and reporters. "Of course," she scoffed. "The Potters."

"Who?" Harry asked from behind her.

Mrs. Figg shook her head; sure she had told Harry all about You-know-who and likely mentioned Leanne Potter in passing. However, with all the publicity the girl was getting, front page every other week or at least a passing mention in any article from broomstick ads to important Gringotts news; Arabella was unable to escape the fame of a child who had no memory of how she achieved her fame. She knew it was wrong, but she felt that James may be to blame. After all, it's not like an 11 year old girl contacted the Prophet to tell them she was going shopping, and rumor has it, James hasn't worked since You-know-who was defeated by his not so little girl.

After being filled in, Harry relaxed enough to scan the crowd and look at the heavy red-head in the center of the attention. He couldn't shake the feeling that everything about this girl screamed spoiled; screamed Dudley. Pushing down the sudden urge to throw something heavy at the famous girl in the center of reporters, Harry rushed to keep pace with Mrs. Figg, who was briskly walking to the bank. Harry never noticed the dark haired man standing off to the side of all the photographers; and James Potter was too busy trying to protect his daughter without stealing any amount of her spotlight, he never saw the thin little boy who looked almost exactly like him.

Harry couldn't help but sneak a few glances at the Goblins. To their credit, the Goblins never acknowledged it, by now they must be used to the curious stares of Muggleborns and their families. "Excuse me. We may need a student scholarship for Harry here. His parents died several years ago, and we don't know if they were wizards. Is there a way we can find out who they are and if they left money for Harry when they died?" Mrs. Figg explained to one of the Goblins, Griphook.

The old Goblin nodded impatiently. "Follow me," he stated briskly, leading the two into his office. "Mr. Jameson, I will need a small sample of blood to do a heritage potion. We have them ready so this will only take a moment of your time. The results will appear above your head and I will run the names of your parents through our general registry."

The boy gave Mrs. Figg a nervous look before holding his arm out to Griphook. The Goblin took a clean knife from his top drawer and quickly drew it across Harry's forearm. Harry watched in fascination as Griphook dripped the blood into the murky green potion, turning it a pale blue. "Thank you, sir." Harry said to the shocked Goblin as his arm was healed.

Mrs. Figg couldn't help but feel excited as Harry drank the potion in one gulp. As his skin gave off a slight glow, the boy stared at his exposed skin in awe while the elderly woman and Goblin waited for the words to appear above the mop of black hair. Within seconds, the two stared in shocked silence at the three lines above the oblivious child's head.

Child: Harry James Potter

Father: James Potter

Mother: Lily Potter n.e. Evans

**A/N: Oh boy! Shit is going down! What will happen? What will they tell Harry? Well, you will have to wait two more chapters (which will hopefully be updated faster ;P)**

**Anyway, they will be going to Hogwarts in about three or four chapters. Who will they meet on the train? What houses will everyone be in? (at least one person will be in a different house than the one they are in from the book… this year.) Again, review with any questions, issues, suggestions, requests, etc.**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Okay. Classes have finished and I should have more time to update before I move into a dorm next year when I go to Stockton. Many people have given me suggestions for pairings. As first year hasn't started, the student couples will have to wait. However, I have decided to do Drarry as the main pairing. I am also planning to stick Ron with Leanne and as you will be able to tell in this chapter, I will also write some Wolfstar. Thank you for all the suggestions and I could still use some ideas for other pairings and houses for characters.**

Chapter 3

"Daddy! Let's go!" Leanne shrieked once again through the halls of Potter Manor.

James made his way reluctantly down the stairs, where his daughter stood impatiently by the fireplace. "Okay sweetheart," he sighed as he pulled on his cloak (he could never go anywhere with Leanne without having at least one photo taken of them. Pictures of the two of them rarely made it into the Daily Prophet, but Leanne never let him leave the Manor without a cloak at the very least.)

"Finally," Leanne snapped. "Come on, grab some powder. Let's go!"

"And put on your public persona." James muttered under his breathe. Thankfully, if Leanne heard him, she remained silent. The best thing about having a famous child was that she always behaved in public; after all, she can't have her fans knowing how horrible she was at home.

The young girl sighed in relief as her father finally left. The night before, she had sent an owl to the Prophet, letting them know that she would be in Diagon Alley the next day and they were right on schedule.

James nearly fell over when he and his daughter entered the Alley and found at least twenty reporters and photographers. Of course, he didn't have to ask who tipped them off, as Leanne strolled past her father and waved sweetly to the crowd.

"Miss Potter! Are you excited to go to Hogwarts?"

"Miss Potter! Do you plan on buying dress robes?"

"Miss Potter! What make of robes will you be wearing?"

"Miss Potter! What class are you most looking forward to?"

Leanne loved every second of it. "Oh, please! You are all making me dizzy!" She giggled. "One at a time please. Oh! Ms. Skeeter! Hello!"

Rita Skeeter positively beamed as the crowd parted for her and her personal photographer. "Leanne, darling. How many times must I tell you? Call me Auntie Rita!"

The girl laughed. "Sorry Auntie Rita. It's just that daddy taught me so well. I'm not supposed to call adults anything other than 'Ms.' or 'Mr.'"

"Oh, darling! Don't think of me as an adult! Think of me as your friend! Now, do you have time to answer some questions?"

_That's what I was counting on,_ Leanne thought as she grinned for the cameras. "Of course, but only a few."

Cameras flashed left and right as the quills and parchment came out. "Miss Potter," asked a dark haired witch in the front. "What type of wand do you wish to get?"

The red headed 11 year old thought for a moment. "Whichever one suits me, I suppose. Don't they always say the wand chooses the wizard? I guess whichever one chooses me is the one I will get."

"Miss Potter! Are you excited to go to Hogwarts?" Asked a tall man standing to the side.

Leanne let out an airy laugh. "Of course, sir! I can't wait!"

"But won't you miss your father?" The same wizard asked.

"Well," the child said, creeping over to her father and taking his hand. "Yes, I will miss daddy very much. But… I can't just not go to Hogwarts. We can always write."

"Leanne?" Rita asked, causing James to tense up, knowing she was about to stir things up. "Do you ever think about your mother? About Harry?"

In the silence that followed Rita's questions, the crowd of reporters, photographers and various onlookers glared at the blonde woman. For years, the unspoken rule was that nobody ever mentioned the deceased Potters. Sure, in the beginning questions were asked only to James, but after an emotional breakdown from Leanne, the two never came up. By now, many reporters suspected Skeeter stirred things up just for the hell of it; as she could twist anything into a conspiracy theory.

In the center of the crowd, James bit his lip and looked at his daughter. During an interview eight years ago Leanne had thrown a tantrum after he had refused to let her leave the podium and play with her toys. Thankfully, the tantrum occurred shortly after a reporter asked a question about Lily, leading the audience to think it was an emotional episode. James now found himself hoping that Leanne didn't do anything insensitive, revealing that she had never been affected by their deaths.

At the same time, Leanne was struggling to place the vaguely familiar name. Obviously, she knew her mother after all of her father's stories and the pictures scattered around the manor. Many of them included herself and some other child. A boy with black hair and green eyes. Suddenly, the girl recognized the name of the brother her father could never mention without crying. _Must be why I blocked it out,_ she thought glancing at her father. _It's humiliating when daddy cries. Even when we are alone._

Nervously fixing her hair, Leanne looked sadly at the cameras. "Of course, Auntie Rita. I think about them every day," the red head lied smoothly.

Half way through the shopping trip, Leanne had everything she needed for Hogwarts. Now she only had to buy what was on the stupid list. They already had her robes and her owl was at home, so her father refused to let her buy another familiar. "But Daddy!" She cried as she stuck her fingers through the cage of the snow white owl (which wanted nothing to do with her.) "Why can't I have a home owl and a school owl?"

"Because Leanne," James snapped, thankful that they were alone in the shop except for the owner who had seen similar exchanges before. "You only need one owl, dammit!"

After dragging her out of the shop, James noted that Leanne's money bag was nearly empty. He didn't even bother asking what she bought; she wouldn't tell him and by now she would have summoned her house elf to bring whatever it was to her room. With a sigh, he led her to Gringotts so she could refill her bag. Every Christmas, James puts 100 galleons in her personal vault since she was 8. Last he checked, she had 250 galleons left. Usually she sends away for whatever she wants and pays for the little things or what she doesn't want James to know about. Everything else James pays for using the family vault. Leanne does however have a vault that nobody but a Goblin can open until she comes of age. Harry had one as well and for some reason, the Goblins will not close it and return the money to the family vault until what would have been his 17th birthday.

Leanne ran into the bank and gave a Goblin her key before James even got through the door. After getting into the cart, the Potter's and the Goblin flew down to one of the lower vaults. The old Goblin then put the key in the lock while Leanne pressed her hand flat against the door (which was the added security feature the family had settled on.) The child waltzed in and stuffed handfuls of gold into her bag without even bothering to count it.

Once back in the main foyer of the bank, James asked the Goblin for a receipt of the money in Leanne's account. The girl herself looked around bored, noting Hagrid asking a Goblin about "the you-know-what in vault 713."

After shopping, James and Leanne Flooed to the Burrow. While the adults talked over tea, Leanne went outside with the other children. They played a two-on-two game of Quidditch, Fred and George against Ron and Leanne. It's unfair that the younger children were up against the 13 year old twins, but the older boys made a rare offer to split up to even things out, but Ron insisted on being on Leanne's team.

This was always the famous girl's least favorite activity; not only were the twins older and more experienced than them, but Fred and George never let then win. Clearly, the two were the only ones who ever treated Leanne like any other child and she was not use to it. Sure, Ron and Ginny followed her everywhere, but Mrs. Weasley didn't allow Ginny to fly and Ron was horrid at Quidditch.

Meanwhile, inside the adults were talking about their children. Molly was thrilled that her youngest son was finally going to Hogwarts, at the same time, she was devastated; one more year and it would just be her and Arthur during the school year. James was telling Molly about how he too was experiencing mixed feelings; certainly he would miss Leanne terribly, but on the other hand, he was anxious to get back to work. "Oh, James. Surly you didn't have to take ten years off! I would have been happy to watch Leanne, honestly anyone from the Order could have watched her!"

James smiled at the well-meaning woman. "I know, Molly. But after Lily and Harry… I just couldn't leave Leanne alone with anyone, nothing personal of course. After a few years I planned to go back, but Leanne didn't want me to leave; I'm all she has after all. This is all she knows."

Molly nodded slowly. "Yes, but still, I'm sure some time to yourself would have been nice. You could have taken a night to just relax, left Leanne with me or Remus…"

Instantly the woman knew she made a mistake. James stood abruptly, furious. "No, never! I can't trust that man!"

Oh, James! Please! Remus is not Sirius!"

"But the two dated! They lived together for years! Lupin should have noticed something was up with Black!"

By now, Molly was on her feet too. "Don't you think that Remus thinks about that every day for the past 10 years? The man he loved, the man Moony selected as his mate did a horrendous thing!"

"Dammit Molly!" James bellowed, tears building up in his eyes. "Don't you understand? Black cost me my family! And Lupin did nothing to stop him! The bastard let his mate lead his own godson to his death!"

"And now you won't let Remus see his own goddaughter." Molly said in the soft voice that always sent her children running.

Tears were now rolling down James' face. "Do you have any idea what it's like to be betrayed by your friends'? I know Lupin did nothing wrong, but if Moony mated with someone as evil as Black, what does that say about him?"

With that said, James tearfully called Leanne into the house and the two returned to their large, quiet manor.

**A/N: Next chapter; Harry and Mrs. Figg in Diagon, Part II.**


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: Well, a lot is happening in this chapter. Sorry about that, I just wanted to get Harry's entire shopping trip into this chapter. So we will see the second part of Gringotts, meet Draco, meet Hedwig, and get his wand. Yeah, I kind of gave everything away, but as this is Harry Potter (Jameson) everything is much more complicated. **

**Oh, and I never remember to put in a disclaimer, so…DISCLAIMER! ALL CHARACTERS (except Leanne) BELONG TO J.K. ROWLING!**

Chapter 4

"Potter? Harry Potter?" Mrs. Figg cried in shock. "How is this possible?"

After seeing the results of the hereditary potion, Griphook convinced Harry that he had to wait outside while he spoke to Mrs. Figg about her account while they waited to find a possible match to the names.

The elderly Goblin sighed. "I have no idea, Ma'am. But he really is Harry Potter."

Arabella was mortified. While the child didn't know it, she had unintentionally mocked the poor boy's family. The family that was still alive.

"The main issue," Griphook continued breaking through the squibs daze. "Is that for some reason, Dumbledore decided to make the world think he was dead. What do we tell him?"

Mrs. Figg sighed. "You're right. We can't tell him who he really is. So do we tell him that he is Muggle-born, or that his parents didn't leave him any money? I suppose we can just fill out a form for a scholarship and tell him that his parents left just enough to cover his first year expenses."

The Goblin thought silently for several moments. "Or," he stated slowly. "We could give him some money from his own vault." Looking at the expression on the woman's face, Griphook rushed to continue. "I have a plan. Just let me do all the talking."

"Mr. Jameson," the Goblin said as Harry took a seat beside Mrs. Figg. "According to our records your mother, Violet, was a British Muggle-born. She then married an American half-blood by the name of Charles Jameson. At the time of their death their vault, which is now yours, contained a total of five thousand Galleons, four hundred sickles, and five hundred knuts."

Griphook got the totals from the documents regarding what was in the vault reserved for Harry Potter the day he was born. James Potter never had the heart to move the money back into his own account and couldn't even bring himself to check the amount. Chances were great that the boys true identity would be revealed long before Potter got around to his "late" son's account.

Harry gawked as the old Goblin withdrew a small pouch and waved his long fingers over it. "This pouch will connect you directly to your vault." Griphook explained as he levitated the bag to the boy. "I have placed charms on it so that you and only you can open it. The charms will activate as soon as you touch it."

Amazed, Harry snatched the bag and yanked it opened. The boy then frowned in confusion. "But, sir, it's empty."

To the humans shock, Griphook laughed somewhat kindly. "You simply think about what you need. The price of a textbook for example."

Harry nodded and placed the pouch in his pocket. He would by a chain later so he could wear it around his neck. "Thank you very much, Mr. Griphook," the child piped as he reached out to shake the Goblins hand like he had seen people do after making business deals on television. Griphook was caught off guard but shrugged and shook the boy's hand.

Mrs. Figg led Harry to Madam Malkin's shop to buy his robes while she went to the creature shop next door to pick up some cat food. Years ago the old woman had explained that most of her cats were actually a magical breed known as kneazles. At least half of them were some form of mix between the magical cat and domestic Muggle cats. Mrs. Figg thinks that Holly herself has a very small amount of kneazle in her and despite their rough start, Arabella thinks she is Harry's bonded familiar (which only occur between magical people and magical animals. Certain bonds, like those between a kneazle and a wizard only happen when the child shows magic and the animal is 6 months old.)

So as Mrs. Figg went to buy her kneazle diet cat food, Harry went into the shop by himself. One of the women in the shop smiled at him and lead him to the back where another boy was being fitted. The other boy had blonde hair and pale eyes and skin, but he looked at Harry with mild interest and said hello.

Shyly, Harry smiled at the boy and listened as he rambled about how his parents were doing most of his shopping for him. For the second time that day, Harry was reminded of Dudley. The dark haired boy found himself thinking that if every child in the wizarding world was like Dudley, he would be better off in the Muggle world, right?

Meanwhile, the blonde boy frowned and studied Harry as if something suddenly occurred to him. "Your parents are wizards, right?" He drawled, causing Harry to tense up.

"Yes. My mother was Muggle born and my father was an American half blood."

The other boy raised an eyebrow. "Was?"

The black haired boy found himself glaring at the blonde. Apparently the phrase 'dumb blonde' doesn't just apply in the Muggle world. "My parents died in a car accident when I was a year old. I was in the car with them; this scar on my forehead is from when the glass shattered on impact."

"Oh," the other boy muttered, before regaining his pureblood composure. "What's your name anyway?"

Harry shook his head, hating the pale boy more by the minute. "Harry Jameson. Who are you?"

Slightly put out, the blonde replied, "Draco Malfoy."

Harry made a face that clearly suggested that he was trying not to laugh and Draco felt his face heat up for some reason. Why would he, the Malfoy heir, be embarrassed by his own name in front of some scruffy looking runt like Jameson? Suddenly, Harry turned to the window and beamed. Following the other boy's glance, Draco saw an old woman with a bag from the creature shop next door. "Who's that?"

Harry turned back to the boy. "Oh, that's my neighbor, Mrs. Figg. I live with my Muggle aunt and uncle, who've always hated magic. Mrs. Figg is a squib and told me all about magic when I was five and turned one of her kneazle kittens blue."

Normally, Draco would have said something nasty about squibs but something stopped him. Maybe it was because his father wasn't there to encourage the behavior, or maybe because he finally had a chance to make his own friend instead of settling for the children of his father's friends. Whatever the reason, Draco found himself continuing to make idle conversation with the smaller boy about Houses and Quidditch until Harry finished and left with his robes.

Harry told Mrs. Figg about the pale boy in the shop as they gathered his books and potions ingredients and supplies. After a couple hours, the two had everything but the child's wand and had stopped to get ice cream. "Mrs. Figg?" Harry asked from behind his large cone of butterbeer ice cream. "Why didn't you come into Madam Malkins?"

The old woman shook her head in exasperation. "That woman takes her 'no food' rule too far. Honestly, it's cat food in a spelled 'no spill' bag. I could tear it opened and hold it upside down over my head and nothing would fall out!"

The child laughed as he finished his ice cream and washed his face. He would have to brush his teeth when he got to Mrs. Figg's house, as Dudley can smell any form of sweet from a block away, especially if it were on Harry's breathe.

Leaving the bathroom, Harry was led to Eeylops Owl Emporium. "But, Mrs. Figg?" He muttered nervously. "I-I thought you were letting me bring Holly to Hogwarts?"

Mrs. Figg smiled at the child. "Of course you are taking Holly with you. She is your bonded familiar after all. I'm just buying us an owl to share. How else will we write to each other?"

Beaming, Harry followed her into the shop where his eyes fell on a beautiful white owl. Arabella was shocked by the unexpected bond that formed clearly when the boy touched the owl through the cage. It is extremely rare to bond with more than one animal, in the past, only very powerful wizards bonded with multiple animals at once. The old woman turned to the owner and quietly asked if the owl was magical, as bonds can only form between magical people and magical animals. The middle aged man nodded with a smile. "Yes, ma'am! Clearly that was no static shock."

Slightly shaken, Mrs. Figg turned to Harry and asked if he would like the owl, already reaching for her money bag to pay.

Their last stop was Ollivander's Wand Shop. Harry was practically shaking with excitement; after all, he has wanted a wand since the day he turned Holly blue. Mrs. Figg herself was shaken. The moment she was told who the sweet little orphan really was she has dreaded entering the old man's shop. Even as a squib she had heard rumors about the old wand maker being a Seer. While she didn't know how true these rumors were, Arabella knew that if anyone knew who this child really was, it would be Ollivander.

The charm on the door alerted the old wizard that he had new customers. Beaming, he slid his ladder across the shelves of wands to great his customer and hopefully sell one of his beloved wands to their hopefully permanent owners. Despite his carefully rehearsed entrance he still nearly fell off the ladder. There in his shop stood a squib and a young boy who was reported dead 10 years ago. _I know the Prophet isn't the most accurate news source, but if they get anything correct, it is the deaths of innocent children._ He thought shaking his head to clear it.

Discreetly turning to the woman, Ollivander knew that the poor child had no idea of who he really was. The old man's smile became a bit more forced as he greeted the boy and set his tape measure to work. While the boy was being measured, the wand maker raced to the back and pulled out the wand he had set aside for the girl-who-lived, holly and phoenix feather.

After grabbing another four wands, Ollivander returned to the frone of the shop to find Harry and Mrs. Figg gawking at the tape measure, which was now measuring the distance between the boy's nostrils. "That's enough you old piece of rubbish… not you ma'am!" the old man added hastily at the woman's scowl. "Sorry, the Seer in me is rather superstitious; I've used that tape measure since making my first wand. It's taken to measuring more than it should; goes much lower than the nose if catch my drift. Anyway, something in me keeps stopping me from tossing it."

The two looked at the nervously rambling old man. Worried that he would give away the secret, Arabella snapped "Can't we just try the wands for Harry?"

Ollivander blushed. "Yes… yes of course! Now, eyeing you up child I have selected a few choice wands. Again, the measurements are mostly a formality. I don't often refer to them unless there is an issue."

Harry was very uncomfortable as he took the offered wand and wasn't helped by the explosion of the jar behind the strange old man. The second wand caused half the wands on one of the shelves to go flying, the third split Mrs. Figg's shopping bag with the cat food, causing the elderly woman to frantically hop around to avoid the heavy bags of food.

After the child stopped laughing at his friends expense, he hesitantly took the fourth wand (the holly and phoenix feather one.) The second he wrapped his fingers around it, Harry felt a warm feeling going through his body as red and gold light shot out the tip of the wand. As the boy paid for his wand and Mrs. Figg struggled to gather the dropped cat food into another light weight bag, Ollivander nodded mysteriously to himself. "Well, Mr. Jameson," the old man said carefully. "You have great power and greater potential. Best of luck."

Arabella nodded quickly and pulled a curious Harry out of the shop.

**A/N: Well, there you go. Chapter 4. Up next is the Hogwarts Express, where Harry will make some more friends and learn more about the children of the wizarding world before his sorting. I have already planned on him being in Gryffindor along with his original dorm mates (the ones from the books.) I am almost positive Hermione will also be a lion. Any other suggestions will be appreciated, but I am currently drafting and don't know if said suggestions will make it. **

**Anyway, let me know what you think. **


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